Wednesday, May 30, 2007

I have coins that jingle jangle jingle

I realize now why my dad was so happy.

My uncles, my grandpa, the guys at work.

My husband, and possibly all my Fantasy Boyfriends.

It has to do with change.
And pockets.

Over the last few years, I’ve been trying to ditch the ‘mom-purse’ as much as possible, and shoving All Important Things in my pockets.

I must have pockets.
Deeeeep pockets.
And I don’t mean that in a gold-digger/miser/rich-gal sort of way.

I need space.
I need room for my
Keys, and
Cellphone, and
Drivers license, credit card, insurance card, and
Cold hard cash.
Sometimes I stick a Kleenex in there, or a
Cough drop, or
A tampon, or
Directions and invitations.

It’s only lately that I listened to my pockets.

When I walk.
When there's coins
deep in my pockets.
Walking.

Happily down the hall to fill my water bottle, or
Through Gigantic Grocery Store from one corner to
The
Other corner,
For milk and makeup and more, more panties.
Striding through a shop, or
Up to the front door of the school, or
From the basement to the top floor with a load of laundry.

Change.

I love to hear the sound of change.
Rubbing against each other in pockets.
A bird-song of conversation.
State quarters tinkle against old Canadian pennies,
Dimes find dimes and fit their grooves into each other,
Nickels become chimes. (nickels, nickels, nickels, says Psychiatrist Lucy)

It’s the sound
Of the sound
Of the lives of my dad and his kind,
A few coins to rub together,
A delicious sound,
A sound of prosperity,
The sound of 32 cents.

5 Comments:

At 2:46 PM, Blogger Maggie said...

This poem feels bouncy and it conjured an image of a merry-go-round for me - the up and down and music and fun and twirling. Like the change in your pocket adding music to your life. You see, people were wrong when they told you you couldn't have a personal soundtrack!

 
At 4:56 PM, Blogger patches said...

Carry that change in the pocket of a pair of corduroys, and you will be the ultimate one woman band. Seriously, I can hear steel drums holding a steady beat to your prose.

 
At 6:21 PM, Blogger Irrelephant said...

Mona, that's marvelous. I've never like carrying metal money in my pocketses, but you made it sound like the secret to Eternal Happiness. Thank you for the big smile. *hug*

 
At 6:53 PM, Blogger gr said...

Woo, and sometimes you get back like a penny from the Bahamas!

 
At 7:55 AM, Blogger Mother of Invention said...

Yeah, and too bad the CDN penny is so worthless to ya! Well, it might sing well in your pocket....always does the harmony thing!

We used to go down the back of the couch and find tons of change from my dad's pockets from when he rested there!

 

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